


A Cold Touch

by TrashTheater



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Egg Laying, Forced Pregnancy, Lamia, M/M, Multipule Orgasms, Size Difference, Underfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 13:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16893897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashTheater/pseuds/TrashTheater
Summary: Sans got home late one night and thought he was alone. A crash from the basement told him different.





	A Cold Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Me trying to rush something out in time for Halloween! Hopefully, I made it on time! (I did not! Not even close! Lets kick of December with some more Halloween!)

The street lights flickered overhead, casting a dim yellow light that did little to illuminate the dark shadows as Sans hurried down the sidewalk. He was anxious to finally get home. After being kept so late at work and still having to stop to pick up groceries, he was losing confidence he'd actually beat the oncoming storm that had been looming overhead all day long. Especially with the wind picking up to an almost violent velocity, threatening to knock him right over. Sans tugged his jacket closer to keep out the chill, hurrying a little faster. 

Fall had come on suddenly, bringing with it a bitter cold and the uneasy sense of the encroaching winter. The trees had all painted and lost their leafs within the first few days; animals were scurrying to finish their winter hordes and find shelter; night began creeping in much earlier as the air dried and became uncomfortable to breathe. 

All and all, Sans’s preferred time of the year. At least when the weather wasn't trying to kill him. Call him a middle-class white girl, but it was a lot easier to wear his jacket when it got colder and maybe, _just maybe_ , he had a affinity for pumpkin spice. He enjoyed seeing how the world changed and adapted with the changing seasons from a phenological point of view, even if it wasn't his usual field of study. Plus, he usually didn't mind the cold, although it was definitely getting to him now.

His driveway came into view as the wind really started to rage and he rushed down the long path to the ramshackle but very cheap building he called home. The streetlights faded out as he moved further into the enclosure of trees that cut off his little house from the rest of the world. He expected that to help block the wind but it only seemed to get even worse as he raced up the porch steps and fumbled with the keys. 

The second he got the knob turned the wind took care of the rest, ripping the door out of his hands so it crashed into the wall and sweeping in a whirl of autumn leafs into the pitch black of his living room. Sans swore as he dropped the paper bags on the ground inside and struggled to get the door closed again. He was going to have to clean that up, wasn't he?

It took a lag in the wind's momentum for Sans to finally wrestle the door into place, sealing him off from the last of the light. But at least he'd beaten the storm. 

Blindly, he ran his hand up and down the wall to his right, looking for the light switch. It was usually right there... he shifted farther, trying not to step on the groceries in the dark. The doors and windows began to rattle as the wind picked up again and the howling made him shiver as he tried to shake the chill that had seeped into his marrow on the walk home. 

After a few frustrating seconds he finally managed to flick on the light, without needed to turn on his own magic, and he sighed out his annoyance. The leafs were in fact scattered all across the old wooden floor of his place and he knew immediately that was where they were going to stay. There wasn't enough to really bother him and it fit with the rest of the 'house-cleaners nightmare' motif that he was unintentionally going for. Gradually, he'd trample them to dust just by ignoring them anyways. 

Grabbing the groceries, Sans began his eradication by carrying them to the kitchen. He opened the fridge to vacant shelves and a few empty mustard bottles. He swept them out to replace will full ones and shoved a few single-serving meals into the freezer. He'd already eaten a premade store sandwich on the way home, so he just tossed out the empty bags and turned on the sink to rinse off his hands. The old pipes rattled loudly. 

Downstairs, there was a sudden crash. 

Sans spun around, sockets wide. His eyes darted around the dim kitchen as he reached behind him to frantically shut off the sink. The sound of water drained into silence as he strained to hear anything else over the wind outside. 

That... _had_ come from downstairs, right? He edged around the side of the room and peeked out into the living room at the basement door. His soul pulsed in his throat as he waited for the door to swing open, revealing some LOVE-crazed lunatic or a psychopathic human with a knife.

But the door didn't open. 

After a few moments of silence, his shoulders relaxed and he let out the breath he was holding. There wasn't a human in his house. Obviously. (Probably.) Something just fell over. Or maybe a raccoon had gotten in or something. He hoped it wasn't some kind of pest. His magic didn't work so well on animals and he'd definitely have to get an exterminator. 

Still, Sans was quiet as he crept towards the door and put his head against the side, listening for the sound of someone coming up the stairs. They creaked, the whole house creaked, so he'd hear it if someone was sneaking around. 

Another few seconds passed and he carefully opened the door, bracing his body against it so he could force it closed if someone suddenly tried to push past him. No one did. 

He peeked down the dark stairwell, unease settling into the pit of his non-existent stomach as he waited for movement in the shadows. Cautiously, he reached forward and tugged on the pull chain for the light. Nothing happened. He pulled again before remember that the bulb had burned out months ago and he'd never replaced it. 

He slammed the door closed and shoved a chair up under the handle. 

Nope. 

Not dealing with that. 

After making sure the chair was firmly wedged in place, Sans checked around for any indication someone had broken in, and, after finding none, checked the chair one more time, and decided to leave the light on. He could deal with all that in the morning. 

. . . 

Something moved in the darkness and Sans scrambled to grab his phone, anxiously scanning the dark corners of his room with his phone-light. Empty. Just like the last three times he'd checked. Groaning, he flicked it off and tried to settling back to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought he could hear someone sneaking up the stairs or the sound of his bedroom door quietly... creeping... open...

It was likely to be a mix of the wind (which was still whipping around) and his own over-worked imagination. He _knew_ that was all it was. Still, when he opened his sockets and stared into the darkness, he could almost swear he could see someone silently slinking just a little bit closer from the shadows...

By now it was well past midnight and he was not getting to sleep. Finally, he kicked off the covers and turned on the light so he could go hunting for a proper flashlight. He wasn't losing sleep to a goddamn raccoon! And if it was a serial killer: Fuck it! Might as well get it fucking over with...!

Flashlight in hand, he stormed down the well-lit stairs and yanked the chair free. Instantly, some of his bravo slipped as he was faced with the dark stairwell again. 

Flicking the flashlight beam over the bottom of the stairs, he considered calling someone. He’d feel like a real moron dragging a cop out there for a fucking raccoon. He doubted any of his friends would still be up, or at least, none of them would be willing to get out of bed on the off chance he was about to be murdered. Besides, there was a good chance whatever was down there had already crawled out of whatever crack it'd used to get in in the first place. 

"alright!” He called into the darkness. “you might as well come out!" Nothing happened. Well, it was worth a shot. 

He stepped down the first step making sure the door stayed open. Those old doors sometimes moved on their own and they preferred to be closed. He glared at it, letting it know there would be consequences. The door was perfectly still. It did not fill him with confidence. 

He reached the bottom of the steps in one piece, which was a good start. The basement was piled high with boxes of old junk and abandoned lab equipment. He swept the light slowly across the dark room. The air felt stale and cold. Everything was covered in spiderwebs and dust. Most of it wasn't even his crap. The boxes and furniture were all left over junk from the previous tenets. 

He shuffled forward. The piles were bigger then he was, towering over him. He peered around one before hearing a soft groan behind him. He spun around to glare at the door which he could see inching its way shut. Fucking house. The price was good, but it was such a piece of shit... 

Something shifted behind him. He turned again, eyes peeled for any motion. Nothing. The wind howled and he tried to ease the rattling in his bones. Just the wind, just the wind, just... 

He scooted around the piles, flicking the light into each corner. He wasn't down there very often, but it didn't look like anything had moved... His soul nearly exploded when he turned a corner and ran into a long coat hung up on an old coat rack that looked human-shaped in the dark. 

It felt like a very long time before he finally found the stack of boxes that had fallen over. An irrational wave of relief spread over him as he approached. See? Just some boxes. Nothing to be afraid of. Boxes fell over some times. 

Except... 

As he got closer, Sans’s soul started to pound again. The boxes had been crushed. Compacted inward, like something had wrapped around them and squeezed. He was pretty sure raccoons couldn't do that. He wasn't sure... what... _exactly_ could do that. The dirt and dust around the boxes looked like something very big had been dragged across it. 

Probably a body. Definitely a body. Sans nodded once. There was a killer in his basement and he needed to get out of there immediately. 

A shock of cold ran down his spine as the door upstairs finally clicked closed. Carefully, he shifted around, pointing the light back the way he came. As the light passed, something very, _very_ large darted behind some boxes. 

He screamed, stumbling back. The back of his foot caught on one of the crushed boxes and he fell back into another stack, which topped backwards with him. The stacks it was holding in place collapsed inward on top of him, knocking the flashlight out of his hand. The basement was plunged into darkness as he was buried under trash. 

Sans sword loudly, scrambling to shove the boxes off. Something was moving closer. He could hear it, even over the sound of the wind and his own soul pulsing in his ears. His eye flared with magic, casting a dim red light on the floor as he groped around for the flashlight. 

It was getting closer. He looked around, trying to determine what direction it was coming from, but his eye wasn't bright enough to see anything more then a few feet away. His phalanges brushed something metal and he yanked the flashlight out of the clutter, clicking the button repeatedly. Once again: Fucking NOTHING. He smacked it against his palm, but it didn't so much as flicker. 

'cheap shit-!' He thought frantically, as something moved behind him. He whirled around, blinding flinging the broken tool towards the sound. 

It hit something cardboard-sounding, then clattered to the floor. Sans clambered over the boxes to get to a clear section and looked around, inching in the general direction of the stairs. He couldn't see shit! It was too dark-! What the fuck was that? He hadn't gotten a good look, but it had moved, right? It looked pretty big. Too big. There was no way that was a person. 

He heard something else and jumped. He didn't know what that was. Was it something? It couldn't be the wind, could it? He had seen something. Had he seen something? It had happened too fast and he was already pretty freaked out. He tried to convince himself it was still just his own mind as he shuffled backwards as quickly as possible. 

He bumped into something and reached back to try and feel around the corner before he realized it wasn't more boxes. It was too solid. It was smooth and cool. Certainly not a wall, maybe a-

A massive hand wrapped around his arm. Sans shrieked, instinctually launching a bone attack as he was suddenly lifted off his feet by his captured appendage. Whatever had him hissed angrily as the attack struck and it dropped him. 

The landing wasn't graceful, and neither was it when he tried to scramble away and tripped over something large on the floor, slamming face first into a wall.

Fuck! His skull spun as he moved to the side instead. He was disoriented and he'd completely lost his bearings. If there was a wall in that spot, then he had no idea where in the basement he was any more. He stumbled past some more stacks, before letting his eye flicker out. He hoped whatever was down there was as blind as he was.

The hissing had stopped, but he could hear movement, something sliding across the floor. Feeling his way forward, he tried to keep quiet as he made his way to the exit. He couldn't sense any shortcuts in the basement, but there were some up stairs. He had to get out of there first. 

"alright," came a familiar voice in the dark. Sans trembled. "you might as well come out."

What the _actual fuck_!? That was _his voice_!

He was literally boxed in, in the dark, trapped with something huge and quite possibly deadly. He should have listened to his starbucks-loving, white girl instincts and never gone down there! 

He felt along the wall, stepping over anything his foot bumped into, until he reached a corner. So, if he had his mental map right... the stairs should be right over... 

Something clattered loudly to the floor as he knocked it over. 

The sliding sound stopped short. 'fuck it! run!' He flicked on his eye light and bolted for the exit, knocking down boxes and equipment in hopes of delaying his pursuer. 

He reached the stairs and made it up two before something wrapped around his ankle and yanked backwards. His chin slammed into one of the steps, knocking him senseless for a moment as he was dragged down and across the dirty floor. 

Skull still spinning, his phalanges scrapped the concrete, desperately searching for something to grab on too as he kicked at whatever had him. It pulled him closer and closer, so he kicked harder and harder until he came to a halt. He tried to scramble up, but the firm grip on his leg made it impossible to get off the ground. Instead he sat up and tried to yank it off. It was a thick tendril-like... something. It was translucent, with a red tint like ecto-flesh, but it was cool and smooth, lacking the natural glow of a summoned form. 

He tried to unwrap it, but he couldn't get it loose. He tried to dig his fingers between the flesh and his bone, to at least loosen the grip some what. He needed something to pry it-

The figure in front of him moved. He froze. He hadn’t realized there was something there, or he’d though it was another stack of boxes or miscellaneous junk. He hadn't even looked at it. Now he was afraid to look. Gradually, he lifted his head, casting the light from his eye up towards the movement. 

Right in front of him was a thick pillar of the dark red psudo-flesh. It was at least as wide across as his shoulders, stretching up and over him. His bones rattled as he tilted his head further back. It was a long, snake-like tail, leading up to an exposed boney spine. Sans realized with a start what exactly he was looking at, taking in the broad rib cage and large skeletal hands reaching down for him. 

' _how the fuck did this get in my house!?_ ' Was all he could think as he was yanked off the ground by the front of his jacket. 

He was brought face-to-face with large, sharp teeth and narrow eye sockets that blazed to life with dark red magic. It took all of his control not to launch another attack to escape as he racked his brain to try to remember what he knew about the creature that could decide to kill him any second now. 

It was a Lamia. A skeleton one. A particularly rare type of an already rare species. They certainly weren't indigenous to such a cool climate. It could be someone’s pet, but it wasn't wearing any sign of ownership. In fact. It wasn't wearing anything at all. More so, Sans had never even heard of one getting so large! He'd only ever seen one in person once, but he'd seen pictures and this one was almost twice as big as any he'd ever seen!

The Lamia leaned closer, expression flickering between curiosity and murder. Sans was pretty sure he remembered the domesticated ones were non-violent unless threatened, but he couldn't know for sure about wild ones. At the very least, it really wasn't something he wanted to bet his life on. Something that big could certainly kill him if it decided too try. His skull began to sweat as he remember that he had already launched an attack on it earlier. Was it smarter to assume it was already angry and make a break for it, or try to deescalate the situation? On second thought, it wasn't like he would get very far.

Alright, new plan. It could talk, right? Lamias were pretty well known to develop speaking abilities and he'd already heard it do so. Or at least, he was pretty sure it had... 

"h-hey, buddy," He started nervously, flinching as his captor glared at the sound. "im not gonna hurt ya, so could ya put me down? mi casa es su casa, and et cetera..." 

A forked tongue flicked against his skull. He panicked, thinking it was about to eat him, and began to struggle before he remember snakes used their tongues to smell. Same for lamia, then? Couldn't they smell fear? He was not liking the way it smirked at him. 

Long fingers reached up under his shirt and brushed his spine. "h-hey!" He squeaked, trying to push it away. 

The Lamia let out a sound that bordered on a growl and Sans froze. "COLD," It hissed simply. 

"you can talk!" Sans exclaimed. More so, it wasn't using his voice any more! Great! Because that wasn't creepy as hell or anything-! "s-so l-let me go!"

The lamia ignored him and he yelped as the tip of it's tail slipped up, wrapping around his spine. It was fucking cold! His captor let out a soft sound, a pleased sort of hum, as more of the tail twisting up around him. 

Sans tried not to panic as his spine was completely ensnared by the powerful creature. It was just trying to get warm, he reasoned. It should know enough not to snap him like a twig or crush him if it wanted to leach off his body heat. What little warmth he gave off as a skeleton was certainly more then a pile of dust. So it wasn't going to kill him. Even though it could. So, _so_ easily. 

"h-hows about we make a deal, yeah?" He offered quickly as a much thicker part of the tail wrapped around his legs. He tried to kick them free, but it was too late. "l-let me go and you can just c-come up stairs. it's way warmer up there." 

The creature continued to ignore him. Or at least, it was more focused on it's current mission then anything Sans had to say. He squirmed harder, distracted by the smooth surface twisting around his spine, trying to keep his arms from being captured even as part of the tail looped around his torso closing in on him. 

"i'll turn up the heat and every-! let me go!" He gave one last valiant attempt to squirm his way free, before he was completely captured. 

It was cold. If the basement hadn't been chilly before, being completely encased in a coil of chilled flesh wasn't helping. He struggled, making more of an effort to kick and elbow as he discovered how immovable the hold was. 

The lamia made another soft sound, not bothered at all by his efforts. Instead, it seemed to relax backwards just a little, pulling him in tighter. He could feel his soul beat erratically, his breath quicken; he couldn't move. He was completely trapped. He couldn't _move_.

Panicking wasn't going to result in freedom, he tried to keep in mind. He liked to think that he was a mostly rational monster. However, all of that seemed to go out the window when he was being held captive in his own basement, by a goddamn snake! He could feel that cold body squeeze and slide over his bones as it maneuvered him into a better position. He found himself straddling part of that thick tail, pressed close to the other skeletons ribcage, quickly losing the energy to keep struggling. 

The lamia let out a pleased sound and Sans relented. Well, it was certainly the weirdest thing he'd found himself -heh- _wrapped up_ in, but it really didn't seem like it planned to kill him. Things could certainly be worse. He could handle being a heat source for a night.

The tail loosened just enough for the lamia to reach between them and start pulling off his jacket. 

Sans’s struggling returned tenfold. "hey! hey, hey, hey! no-! what are you do- stop!" He tried to hold onto them, but the creature ripped it and his shirt from him with relative ease, the cold flesh clamping down around him again. He shuddered at the cold over his newly-exposed bone. "g-give t-that b-back-!" 

The lamia tossed them dismissively into the dark. Sans whined at the loss, squirming dejectedly. Apparently, things were still getting worse. His binds started to move again and he felt something tug on the waistband of his shorts. He shrieked startled, kicking and this time digging his claws into the tail trying to free himself. 

The tail constricted fiercely and Sans gasped, the lamia snarling at him. His bones groaned under the immense pressure and he quickly choked out a fearful apology. It was going to crush him-! 

The creature considered him with narrow sockets before reaching back into the coils, to relive him of the last of his clothes. It's claws made quick work of the fabric and Sans was completely naked when the tail slowly relaxed back to a firm hold. 

Embarrassed tears welled in his eyes as Sans tried not to fight the cold scaly flesh that pressed and slid over his bare pelvis. The movement was slow and sensual, his body responding with small sparks of pleasure that he desperately tried to ignore. His captor leaned in close, tongue flicking out over the edge of his sockets, tasting his tears. Sans flinched away, shivering when it moved to nuzzle his neck. The tongue lapped at his throat with slow, purposeful motions he could feel down to his core. 

Sharp teeth grazed bone and he moaned, fear and heat shooting through him. He magic was starting to respond, twisting in his pelvis. What was he doing? This wasn't the time to be...! He tried to think about something else. It had just been a long time, he thought. Of course his body was a little sensitive. The tail between his legs shifted and he moaned, hips bucking before he could get ahold of himself. His thighs clenched as it did it again, more forcefully. His magic practically melted into forming a dripping red pussy. The next harsh movement made him throw his head back in pleasure. 

The coils loosened again somewhere around his middle and long fingers grasped his floating ribs, rubbing them harshly. Sans twisted, gasping. He couldn't help as he started pressing his pussy back against the smooth, cool surface. Pleasure exploded inside him and he nearly cried out.

He was so disgusting. Becoming such a horny mess over some snake that just wanted him for his warmth, holding him hostage in the basement. This was definitely the lowest he'd ever gone and even as he tried to swear he wasn't going to get himself off like that, he wasn't sure he was going to be able to hold himself back. It felt too good. The tail writhing around him and bucking up between his legs. Sharp teeth pressing dangerously into his neck. Strong hands that moved to stroke up and down his spine almost-

Wait a second...-! 

The lamia panted against him softly, hands exploring him frantically. Sans realized with startling clarity the movement beneath him was clearly intentional. The creature was responding to his arousal or... had it triggered it on purpose? That was one was to get him _hot_ and bothered, he supposed. He squirmed at the continued assault on his body, trying half-heartedly to escape. He really shouldn't lay back and let this happen, he tried to convince himself as the pleasure began to mount and he dissolved into a panting, desperate mess. He rubbed his cunt back and forth, hips stuttering with need. He was so close-! 

He was too far gone to notice the change in the surface until something hard pressed up against him, sliding immediately between his hot folds. It was huge and noticeably warmer then the rest of the tail and it took Sans only a second to realize what it was. A rather sizable, throbbing, stiff cock. 

The lamia pulled him tighter with a snarl, bucking rigorously against him. Sans jerked at the sudden, _abusive_ pressure right against his clit, before his toes curled and he came harder then he'd ever come in his life. His skull filled with white-hot static that swallowed any other thought until it eventually devolved into pleasant after shocks. 

The lamia didn't stop to let him recover. If anything it's eager humping became more desperate. Sans didn't have the time to realize what was happening when he was pulled even closer, the cock slipping free of his folds and pushing against his entrance. 

He screamed as he was suddenly penetrated. It was huge-! So much bigger then anything Sans had inside him before. The lamia thrashed, pausing only as it struggled to get the head of it's thick cock inside him. 

"wait-! fuck-! it's too-! oh god!" It pressed in further, spearing him open, burning as it stretched him wide. He tried to kick, but the motion only helped the lamia sink deeper and he screamed again. It couldn't fit; there was no way it could fit-! 

Halfway in, the creature decided to grant him mercy, drawing out of him and thrusting just the first few inches back inside. Sans groaned, the burning sensation spreading over the rest of his pelvis. It shoved into him again and forced a weak moan from him. It was too much. He felt unbearably full. Yet, with each thrust his body relaxed a little more, allowing more of that massive cock to force its way inside. The thick shaft was becoming slick from the copious liquid seeping out of him as it filled him again and again and _again_. 

Sans was thrashing and moaning by the time the lamia finally buried itself completely. His nails dug into the tail again as he tried to find something to hold onto, but this time it seemed to urge his captor on. It surged inside him, pounding wildly. Sans cried out to the ceiling as another orgasm was ripped out of him. 

The creature pounded him through his release and after while he was struggling to escape the over sensitivity. It was huffing hard now, growling and hissing as it bit and lapped at what bone it could reach. It seemed to be getting close, if its unstable thrusts were any indication. Sans let his tongue lull out as he was used like some kind of cocksleeve. He was approaching his third mind blowing orgasm when the thrusting became more shallow and he felt something else press against the edge of his stretched pussy. 

He was once again struck by a bit of lamia trivia. 

Didn’t they have two cocks? 

The second head pushed hard against his entrance and Sans panicked. “its _not_ going to fit! please don't-! god, please don’t-!” 

Sharp teeth sank into his neck as he was penetrated again, pain and pleasure mixing in a nearly unbearable combination. The second cock was smaller, but that didn't matter when he was already stuffed to bursting. He couldn't believe it didn't tare him apart as the lamia began thrusting again, both shafts spreading open his sensitive passage.

It was too much and he sobbed out moans as the heat kept building. It was overwhelming and amazing and he couldn't think. He was so close when suddenly the creature sank completely inside him and froze. 

Sans wiggled desperately, clenching around the cocks as much as his weak body could manage, hoping to encourage the other to move. He was so close-! The teeth sank tighter, as he moaned at the thickness inside and he thought if he squirmed enough, he might be able to come just like that. 

But something pushed past his entrance and he whole body arched in shock. He thought it was another cock at first, too full to tell where the pressure was coming from. It was sliding along the inside of the smaller cock, adding more and more pressure, before it released inside him, pressing impossibly deep and filling him with a pleasure he'd never dreamed of. 

“oh god...” he gasped, “what was-?” The answer came to him as another one forced its way inside and he convulsed through another blissful orgasm. Fucking _eggs_! The thing was _breeding_ him! 

Sans didn't have the energy to even try to resist. He just laid back and let the creature release its clutch inside him, gasping and moaning as mini-orgasms rocking him with each one.

Sans was too far gone to keep track of how many there were, but he knew the second the last one was planted. The lamia surged inside him, starting a brutal, punishing pace that left Sans screaming again, mind white with ecstasy. It slammed into him with a feral sound, tail getting tighter and tighter until finally it came, filling Sans to the brim with it's hot seed. 

The basement settled back into silence aside from the sound of two gasping. Sans let out one last whine as the thick cock slid out of his thoroughly wrecked pussy. He could feel fluids leaking out of him, but couldn't bring himself to care. He was too sore to move, even if he wasn't still trapped. 

The lamia recovered a little better, but only took a moment to rearrange its tail so it could curl up around Sans properly and promptly fell asleep. Sans wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now, but decided that was something he could worry about in the morning. He was too exhausted to keep his eyes open for even another second. His bones sagged as his head dropped against the cool chest beside him. 

Outside the clouds above opened up and the rain began to pour.

**Author's Note:**

> That was the first sex scene I've written in probably four years. Hopefully it doesn't read quite that bad... Comments and kudos really help my motivation, so if you've got a second I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Also, Sans clearly lives in a legit haunted house. It has nothing to do with the plot or the lamia in the basement, but it is _for sure_ haunted. XD


End file.
